


The Year Where Harry Found a Family

by tea_and_fiction



Series: The Fix-It Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fix-It, Fix-it fic, Rescuing Harry from the Dursleys, The one where adults are actually capable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_and_fiction/pseuds/tea_and_fiction
Summary: Year 1 (Canon AU/Series Rewrite/Fix-it-fic): Harry Potter is quite an unusual boy, and life only gets more unusual when he finds out he's a wizard. Well, that and the fact that, apparently, the way he's been treated at the Dursley's is unacceptable. (This will be a massive rewrite of the original series. It's going to be a long ride!)
Series: The Fix-It Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682731
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue: The Life of Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> I never read the Harry Potter series as a child, but I've finally read the series recently. I absolutely adore the world of the HP universe, and I completely understand how it became such a beloved series. However, as an adult, I see serious issues with the ways some of these characters are treated. Serious red flags are often ignored, character's potentials are pushed aside, and really, many of these characters just deserved better.
> 
> So, basically, this story is going to be just that. A fix-it fic/rescuing Harry from the Dursley's fic/people I love don't die here fic/adults are actually capable fic/etc… It doesn't mean bad things won't still happen, or that characters will be OOC, or everyone lives; I just really feel like there needs to be a fic where these characters get the decent treatment they deserve, and I haven't found one, so why not make one?
> 
> This story will follow a majority of the big plot points of canon (save year 3 where I have some different plans), but it will definitely be AU. I also plan to gloss over actual canon scenes, as it bores me to tears when people rewrite scenes that already exist in fanfiction. So if you haven't read the books, you will probably be a bit confused, as I'm only going to include the base details. So fair warning.
> 
> It will start out more canon (especially in year 1) but will begin to deviate as we go along. I have the whole thing planned out until the very end, and it's going to be a monster fic series, but I hope you enjoy and will come along for the ride for me!
> 
> Also, I am not British, so please pardon me if the tone feels a bit off or words don't fit. Please point anything out to me that you catch. Thanks!

Harry Potter was a very unusual boy. Not because Harry himself felt unusual or special, in fact, it was quite the contrary. Instead, Harry knew from a young age that he was unusual because of how his relatives treated him.

Harry could never remember being welcomed or loved by his relatives. His uncle yelled at him often, his aunt only cared if he got his chores done, and his cousin was often encouraged to push and tease him whenever he could.

For as long as he could remember, Harry was called "boy" and "freak" instead of Harry, and he didn't even realize his name was Harry until he was four years old. That was the day he heard his Aunt Petunia explaining how he had been dumped in their care to a nosy neighbor. She'd used the name Harry, but it hadn't registered until a few days later that it must be his name she had used, as it certainly couldn't be anyone else's.

Although Harry knew no other life, he wasn't dumb. He knew he was treated differently, unfairly. As a very young child, he was often told by his Aunt and Uncle that he was "freakish," and that the only way to fix this so-called freakishness was for him to be a better person. So Harry tried, really tried. He did his best at all his chores, to not talk back, to stay out of Dudley's way, and above all, to fix his freakishness. He'd thought for a short time that he could earn a hug, or a kind word, or regular meals, or maybe even if he was very, very good, his own room instead of the cupboard under the stairs.

Unfortunately, that dream was quickly squashed when after three weeks of being perfectly normal his Aunt Petunia hung a "chore chart" up on the fridge. Under Harry's name was a list a mile long, filling the entire paper with even more chores than he'd ever had before. Meanwhile, Dudley's only chore was listed as "watching" Harry to make sure he did everything up to standards. Which, of course, Harry knew meant pushing him, beating him, and insulting him instead.

When he'd asked Aunt Petunia why Dudley's list was so short when he made most of the mess, he'd only received a shriek, a lecture about his ungratefulness, and a smack to the back of the head with her frying pan. (That was before he'd learned to duck.)

Harry knew from that day on that fairness wasn't something that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon cared about. And, more importantly, fairness wasn't something that applied to freaks.

Still, he knew he had nowhere else to go, as Uncle Vernon often liked to remind him, and he had to make the most of it. So Harry learned when to work hard. He learned when it was safe to stand up to Dudley and when it was best to avoid him entirely. He learned when he could sneak in a snarky word to Uncle Vernon, and when to keep quiet to avoid a slap to the back of the head.

Another thing he also learned quickly was that the things that made him unusual, "freakish," in his relative's eyes were things he couldn't change.

"Fix your wretched mop of hair!" Aunt Petunia would shriek. But no matter how he tried he couldn't get it to stay down, and look "respectable."

"You're just like your no-good parents. Useless the both of them, driving drunk like that." Uncle Vernon would snort. But Harry didn't see how that was his problem. Even if his parents were "no-good layabouts" like Uncle Vernon often said, they had died while Harry was still a baby. He couldn't change that.

There were of course also all of the "freakish incidents" that happened around him, like floating toys, or the flower that had suddenly gone from dead to blooming, or the time that Harry had wanted to see a sparrow up close and fifty of them had started following him and his relatives around and affectionately tweeting at them. Harry wasn't sure how those things happened, and even though they were weird, he was certain they couldn't be entirely his fault.

Still, despite all that, Harry only truly realized how bad it was living at Privet Drive when he was finally able to go to school. Of course, Aunt Petunia avoided sending him for as long as she possibly, and legally, could. Her precious Dudders went to every children's program, daycare, and event possible. (Although Harry didn't think it was doing him any good. He was still as dumb as ever.) Harry, on the other hand, was made to stay at home and do all the chores, except for the really big jobs that he wasn't able to do. Those Aunt Petunia did begrudgingly.

But Aunt Petunia, although she would have liked to, couldn't keep him out of school forever. And so to school he went, dressed in the best of Dudley's hand-me-downs that he had and carrying only a paper bag with two pieces of bread and a slice of cheese for his lunch, as well as Dudley's old backpack with the broken strap. His school supplies were all of Dudley's used items: broken pencils, crayons, and half-used notebooks.

The beginning of classes went well. Harry managed to make a few friends whom he played with until lunchtime, and Dudley seemed to ignore him for the most part.

Lunch was a different story. His new friend Lucy noticed he didn't have much in his lunch sack and she started asking him weird questions about where all of his food was. When he said that special snacks were for Dudley, she thought he was joking with her for some reason. When he tried to tell her he wasn't, she thought he was lying, and refused to sit with him again.

The few other friends he had made were chased off in the evening by Dudley, who quickly got bored in recess time and decided chasing Harry and anyone near him would be fun. Thus began the start of Harry's lonely school years, and "Harry Hunting".

But although his school years were lonely, Harry learned a useful skill at school. Listening.

Because no one wanted to be around him, he often sat alone, outside of every conversation and forgotten just enough that people didn't mind what they said around him. And so he learned a lot of things. Sometimes this information wasn't very useful, like knowing that Susan Brown was afraid of frogs, or that William in Year 6 was the most popular person at school. However, other things were important things. Things that made Harry understand not only was his life not fair, but it wasn't normal either.

Harry learned quickly from listening that other children didn't sleep in cupboards. In fact, children apparently didn't sleep anywhere but a bedroom! Other children also received three full meals every day, and usually only had a few chores! Harry could barely imagine how wonderful that must be.

From information like that, it hadn't taken long for Harry to realize that he was the exception, and it had been an even shorter time for him to realize that this meant something was wrong at the Dursleys.

That was how, one day, he finally got the courage to speak to someone, one of the few teachers who had ever been nice to him; Mrs. Lynn.

Mrs. Lynn was kind. She always had a smile for everyone in the class, not just her favorite students. She would play fun games with them, tell them jokes to make them laugh, and once had even brought in cookies for the whole class to share. She was one of the few adults, really the only adult, that Harry felt he could maybe trust.

He'd chosen to speak to her during recess, standing back from the other children as he normally did, and waiting until it was just he and Mrs. Lynn standing alone by the old swingset.

"Mrs. Lynn?" He'd hesitantly spoken her name, tugging on her sweater lightly.

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry had beamed up at her, happy to hear his name. He hardly ever heard it spoken if he wasn't at school.

"I was just, I mean it's hard to say, but-" Harry had rambled a bit, before cutting himself off and taking a deep breath. "I think something is wrong with the way things are with the Dursley's. I mean, at my home."

Mrs. Lynn's kind face morphed into a frown, but it was a concerned frown, not an angry one like Aunt Petunia's.

"Whatever do you mean by that, Harry?" She had asked.

And so Harry had told her, looking distractedly at his tattered sneakers the entire time instead of her face, about the cupboard, the chores, Dudley, everything. Except for the name freak. That was one secret he couldn't bring himself to share.

When he'd finally finished, he felt a soft hand settle on his shoulder, and he looked up to find Mrs. Lynn looking extremely concerned.

"Harry, I want you to go sit on the steps by the door for a moment. Can you do that for me? I need to talk to your cousin."

"Yes mam," Harry mumbled. He wondered what good speaking to Dudley about any of it would do, but he nodded his head anyway.

"Good, thank you, Harry. I promise everything will be alright. Off you go now." And with that, she shooed him to the steps.

He sat and watched nervously as she spoke to Dudley. At first, her face was concerned, and she seemed to be questioning Dudley rather harshly. Harry felt hopeful for the first time ever. Maybe she could do something, like speak to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and tell them how normal children were supposed to be treated. Maybe they would listen to someone as smart as Mrs. Lynn. Maybe they just didn't really realize how they treated him.

But suddenly, her face changed. She started looking sort of funny as if she'd just woken up from a dream, and she kept glancing at him and frowning. Harry's heart began to sink.

After a few minutes, she walked back over to him, her face still in a frown, but this time it was a frown that told him he was in trouble.

"Harry, I can't believe you would lie like that. It's very serious to lie about such things. I'm very disappointed in you." Her voice sounded very bland, not her normal happy tone, and Harry thought it almost sounded like a bad actor from one of the cheesy horror movies Dudley would sometimes watch.

"Sorry, mam." He mumbled, not bothering to correct her. He knew how things went when people believed he was lying.

"Yes, well, you shouldn't..." Mrs. Lynn began before her voice began to trail off. "Where was I now...? Were you in trouble Harry?" She asked him, before shaking her head. "Well, you shouldn't be sitting here! It's a nice day! Go out and play."

And with that, Harry was pushed towards the playground. Mrs. Lynn never brought it up again, and neither did Harry. She was still kind, and still smiled at him, but he never felt safe around her again. Not like he had before. And he certainly never told her any big secrets again.

In fact, after that day, Harry learned another valuable lesson, that even though the Dursley's didn't treat him normally, there wasn't anything he could do about it. And no one was going to do anything about it either, so it was useless to say anything about it.

And so life carried on, day after day, full of chores, unfairness, and being considered a freak. Still, Harry hoped that someday, something would finally change, that things would be better, even if he had to wait until he was a grown-up.

But thankfully, he didn't have to wait that long. Because without warning a giant arrived with a letter, and suddenly everything was turned upside down.

Suddenly, he wasn't Harry the freak. He was Harry Potter, a wizard, with parents who had loved him. And, he was going to Hogwarts.


	2. Sorting and New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to start subtly fixing things! Here we go :)
> 
> Also, anything borrowed from the book here is not mine, nor are the characters. Feel like I have to say this since there are some sections borrowed from canon here.

Diagon Alley was as magical as anything Harry had imagined. Or rather, hadn't even known to imagine.

The wizarding alley was full of so many amazing things that Harry couldn't really tell where to keep his eyes. There were shops selling magical books, a wand shop, a clothing store selling funny robes and hats, a magical pet store, and even some sort of sports shop! So many wonderful, magical things whizzing by him every time he turned to look in a new direction. He was sure he would never run out of wonderful things to see.

But even better than the wizarding world and its many wonders was the company with him. Harry had never met anyone like Hagrid, the giant who had arrived after the whole funny business with the hundreds of letters following him around. Hagrid was funny, and although he seemed unaware of his own strength, he was kind as well. He had told Harry stories of the wizarding world, Harry's fame, and about you-know-who and his parents, answering all of Harry's questions and never seeming annoyed or put out by having to spend his day off with him. Harry had never had anyone tell him about his parents, so he was beyond grateful for that. And he'd never had anyone truly seem to want him around either.

However, just because Hagrid was nice, Harry still didn't really trust him. At least not completely. After all, Mrs. Lynn had been kind too, and she had still thought he was a liar in the end. Maybe Hagrid would turn out to be the same. Harry hoped not, but he couldn't be too careful.

So although Harry liked Hagrid, he wasn't sure exactly if he could trust everything he said. He wanted to believe that his parents were kind good people, but how could he be sure? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon certainly didn't think they were. But if Hagrid was right, then they had lied about a lot of things about his parents, like them being no good drunks, and not telling him about the magic. So Harry doubted they had been right either. But it was hard to say what the truth was. Harry was happy simply to know their names though, and a little bit about them, even if all of the fantastic things Hagrid said about them may not be exactly true. Hagrid had said they went to Hogwarts too, so maybe Harry could ask someone else there about them too.

However, Hagrid also said some things that didn't quite make sense to Harry when he asked about Hogwarts. Like, when he told Harry that some "house" at Hogwarts (a "Slithering" or something) was where all the evil wizards went. Harry couldn't really believe that was true. If they knew all the wizards in that house were evil, why would they let them go to school in the first place? But Hagrid did seem to be a bit clueless about some things, so maybe he was just confused.

Regardless of the many questions spinning around in his head about his newfound knowledge of his parents and the wizarding world, Harry had an amazing time shopping for his school supplies. He still couldn't believe there was all that wizarding money in a vault all for him! When all was said in done, Harry had a wand, books, and all his other school supplies in his new magical trunk that was bigger on the inside. And best of all, he not only had made his first friend in Hagrid but also had his first pet, a beautiful snowy owl he had named Hedwig.

The only snag to the whole day had been when he met a strange boy while being fitted for his robes, a Mafloy, or something. (He'd said some rude things, or at least, they seemed rude. Harry didn't quite understand all of it truthfully. Thankfully, he hadn't had to talk to him long.) Well, that and the fact that Hagrid had forgotten about lunch, so Harry was a bit hungry when he returned towards the Dursley's. And because they were mad at him about the whole magic thing, he didn't get any dinner either. But that was fine. Harry was used to that, and he hadn't wanted to annoy Hagrid by bringing it up.

Although Harry was reluctant to let this wonderful day end, he couldn't shop with Hagrid forever. But he was pleased to find that Uncle Vernon was so scared by magic, and Hagrid, that Harry was allowed to keep all of his things with him in his new room! (Granted, it was Dudley's second room, so it was not very nice and a bit drafty. But Harry didn't care. It was his very own room, not a cupboard.)

But as he settled into his bed, Harry couldn't sleep. And as he lay, thinking about all the things he'd learned that day, a horrible truth sunk into him.

Harry had always known the Dursley's weren't fair, that they wanted to fix a freakishness about him that Harry couldn't even understand. But now, Harry understood what it was. The freakishness that had plagued his life. It was the magic.

Harry's stomach ached at the thought. All of those years spent trying to earn the Dursley's acceptance. It would have never worked. The magic was something he was born with. At least, that was what Hagrid had said. He could have never stopped it.

Suddenly, Harry was mad. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but he didn't dare for fear of waking his Aunt and Uncle and being punished for waking them up in the middle of the night.

So Harry did what he always did. He swallowed down his anger at the unfairness of it all, rolled on to his side, and attempted to sleep.

Maybe he couldn't do anything about it at the Dursley's, but Harry wouldn't be here for long. He would be at Hogwarts soon. There, Harry was determined, it would be different. He wouldn't be a freak there, in a place where everyone else was magical too. Maybe, just maybe, he could fit in there.

With that hopeful thought in his mind, Harry drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

...

"Ronald! Hurry up now, we're going to miss the train if we don't hurry!"

The loud voice of his mother yelling startled Ron Weasley, who was currently looking under his bed for a missing shoe he should have packed hours ago, but had been putting off. Startled, he accidentally hit his head hard on the bedframe above him, letting out a startled yelp.

As he rubbed his aching head, he heard the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs, before his mother popped her head in the room with a sigh.

"Oh dear, have you hit your head again? Let me take a look."

"Mum!" He moaned in embarrassment as she rushed over and began tutting in concern over his head, messing up his hair to see the damage. "It's just a bump. I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that!" She said sternly, pulling out her wand and murmuring a simple healing spell. Immediately, the pain alleviated and Ron's head felt much better.

"Now, grab that trunk and let's get a move on! Can't be late for your first year at Hogwarts, now can we!" She said with a misty smile, before rushing forward to crush him in a tight hug. "My little Ronnie, off to Hogwarts already!"

"Better get off him Mum." He heard, rather than saw, a familiar voice from where he was squished in his mother's arms.

"Might smother our little Ronniekins if you squeeze him any harder!"

"Smothered before he ever became a proper wizard-"

"What a tragedy!" The twin voices snickered.

"Fred, George, off with you!" His mother said as she let him go, giving him a clear view of his twin brothers smirking at him from the doorway. "You should have your trunks outside already! This isn't your first year at Hogwarts." She rushed towards them, and they let out a sarcastic yelp and rushed down the stairs fast and loud.

Ron smiled, taking one last look around his room. It would seem the shoe would have to wait. He was going to Hogwarts.

And boy, was he excited!

...

Molly Weasley was a good mother. At least, she tried to be. She was well aware that, having so many children running around, sometimes she missed things or messed things up. But she knew that her children all knew they were loved.

Molly liked to think she had developed a certain sixth sense for motherly things as well. Like noticing when Charlie's letters were a bit more homesick than usual and sending him an extra helping of homemade fudge by owl. Or when Percy was stressing over a test, and sending him extra letters reminding him to take breaks. Or when Ron was feeling nervous, like he had all last week about going to Hogwarts, and making sure she gave him extra hugs and words of encouragement.

Yes, the Weasley's might be poor and they might not be perfect, but Molly was determined that none of her children would ever feel unloved.

But right now, Molly wasn't thinking about any of those things. No, right now, she was much too preoccupied with how late they were in getting to the train.

"Hurry up now! We can't miss the train!" Molly bellowed loudly to her children as they pushed their many trunks and bags down the crowded train platform. "And the trainyard is packed with muggles, of course, as always."

She let out a sigh, and pushed lightly on Fred and George's backs, steering them towards the platform.

"Now, what's the platform number?" Molly prompted her children.

"Nine and three quarters!" Answered Ginny enthusiastically. She had been talking nonstop about going to Hogwarts since Ron received his letter, and Molly had nearly exhausted herself trying to explain to her that she couldn't go just yet. Ginny refused to listen and seemed to believe it was some sort of unfair conspiracy against her since she was the only girl.

Molly sighed and shook her head. "You're not old enough, Ginny, hush. All right, Percy, you go first." She gestured towards her son, who puffed up his chest proudly at being the oldest going to Hogwarts this year, since Bill had graduated. He walked confidently through the wall and disappeared.

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George! Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

Molly could feel the headache coming on already. Honestly, those two boys. They still thought she couldn't tell them apart. And honestly, she wasn't sure they'd believe her that she could tell them apart (most of the time) even if she told them.

So, instead of buying into the prank, she decided to save time. "Sorry, George, dear."

The reply of it only being a joke was to be expected, and Molly rolled her eyes and chose not to comment, instead pushing George through the barrier behind Fred, ignoring his amused chuckles at her expense.

But just as she moved to motion Ron to follow his siblings, a sudden timid voice called out.

"Excuse me." Molly turned to see a small young boy, with messy black hair, tanned skin, and large glasses.

"Hello, dear," She said, smiling warmly at the poor, timid thing. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

"Yes," The boy replied. "The thing is, well, I don't know how to-"

Suddenly Molly knew exactly what the boy was asking for. And she felt a sudden icy worry about why he would need to be asking it.

The boy was thin and quite short, but she couldn't tell how thin truly, as he was swimming in his oversized and baggy clothes. They seemed to be many sizes too big for his small frame, and now that she was looking carefully, seemed rather old and threadbare as well. Now, her boys often wore hand me downs, so she was no stranger to ill-fitting clothes or things that were a bit worn. But this was quite different. The boy's clothes were more fit for the rubbish than they were to be worn, and the giant size meant they were slipping off his frame as he stood in front of her! Completely unacceptable in her opinion. Whoever had bought his clothing was either facing some great financial struggles, or they should be ashamed, sending the poor boy out like that.

On top of the thinness and the clothes, the boy was clearly alone. Alone, at a busy train station where anything could happen, and clearly unaware of how to get to the Hogwarts express. And that set Molly's mothering instincts on high alert. Something wasn't adding up. Where on earth were his guardians?

But Molly didn't have time to dwell on these things. They were late already.

So, instead, she showed the poor thing how to get through to the platform before rushing Ron through as well. She helped her children onto the train and threatened Fred and George not to repeat the toilet incident from last semester.

But it was in the last moments, as she told her children farewell, that Fred told her something that changed everything.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train? You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

Molly was used to the twin's nosy attitudes but decided to humor Fred anyways. "Who?"

"Harry Potter!"

As Ginny shrieked in excitement, and discussion shifted to you know who, Molly waved her sons off and told them not to bother the poor thing. But as the train turned round the bend, Molly couldn't help but wonder; what exactly was going on with Harry Potter?

She hoped she was mistaken, but as a mother, she couldn't help but feel that something was very, very wrong.

...

Seated in his own empty train compartment, Harry was happily soaking in the view outside of his window as the train began to pull out of the station. The closest thing to traveling Harry had ever done was the recent excursion to the cabin with the Dursley's, but that had been bad circumstances and he hadn't been able to enjoy the experience of leaving Privet Drive at all. But now, Harry was happily taking in all of the sights and sounds of the magnificent Hogwart's express.

He was happily watching the scenery of the countryside fly by, engrossed in the view, when the sudden noise of the compartment door sliding open caught his attention.

Turning apprehensively, he met the gaze of the lanky, red-haired boy he had met at the train station.

"Mind if I sit here?" The boy asked with a sheepish look on his face, scratching the back of his head nervously. "All the other compartments are full."

Despite his worry about meeting a new person, Harry swallowed down his fear and smiled. "Sure." He replied, gesturing for the boy to sit down.

"Thanks!" The redhead said, beaming. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley."

Harry was a bit startled by Ron's friendly and open nature. People didn't usually like him at all. He masked his surprise though, and answered, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"So you're really-? I mean, do you still have the, you know-" Ron pointed at his own forehead, miming the clear meaning of his words.

Despite Hagrid explaining that he was "famous" or some other rubbish to Harry, he was still quite confused and disturbed that people would know so much about his life that even he hadn't known until recently.

Harry nodded in response to Ron's questions, and again when Ron asked to see, pulled his hair back casually.

"I don't know why you'd want to see it." Harry mused as he pushed his fringe back into place as best he could. "I didn't even know it was a special scar until a few days ago."

"You didn't?" Ron asked, clearly confused.

"Nope. Grew up with non-magical people. I think you call them muggles or something? Had no idea." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"But didn't you know where it came from? I mean, you'd have to know how your parent's died, right?"

"Yeah, sure." Harry brushed him off, not quite ready to admit to a stranger that he didn't know anything about his parents at all. "The Dursley's- I mean my relatives- didn't like talking about magic much." That was, of course, an understatement.

"Oh." Ron replied, seemingly at a loss for what to say.

They sat awkwardly for a few moments before Ron began launching into a discussion about his family. Harry was shocked when he mentioned the size of his family, and thought it sounded wonderful to have so many siblings despite how Ron seemed to be complaining about them.

"I don't think it sounds bad at all! I'd give anything to have a big family like that!" Harry exclaimed earnestly.

"Well, it's not all great you know, not when you're stuck in everybody's hand-me-downs, and everyone has already done all the interesting things before you."

"Still, it must be wonderful to have all those people who would love you and support you. And your hand-me-downs look better than mine. I get all of my cousin's old cast-offs, and he's practically the size of a whale."

Ron blinked at him for a moment, before he realized Harry was joking, and let out a small laugh.

"You're a strange one, mate. But I guess you're right. Mum and Dad are pretty great. And my brothers aren't so bad, especially Bill and Charlie. They're pretty neat."

Harry smiled and nodded in agreement with Ron's words.

"Say, which house do you think you'll be placed in?" Ron asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure-" Harry began to answer before the door opened up and a girl with extremely bushy hair poked her head inside.

"Excuse me. Has either of you seen a toad? Neville has lost his." She gestured to a blonde, pudgy boy standing behind her and wringing his hands nervously while his eyes darted back and forth.

"Sorry, haven't seen a toad today." Ron replied quickly with a shrug, shooting a look at the girl that wasn't unlike how people at primary school had once looked at Harry. Well, Harry couldn't have that.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. And this is Ron Weasley." Harry spoke up with a small smile towards the girl. "It's nice to meet you Neville, and..?"

"Hermione Granger." The girl answered confidently, while at the same time the boy, Neville, let out a small gasp from behind her. "Are you really Harry Potter? I've read about you in Hogwarts a History."

"Yeah, that's me. I guess."

"What do you mean you guess?" Neville spoke up timidly.

"Well, I don't know what the book says about me or anything." He shrugged. "I'd never even heard of magic until recently."

"He was raised by muggles." Ron answered at the shocked look on both of their faces.

"Oh, I see. I'm a muggleborn." Hermione answered promptly. "But I took the time before school to read the history of the magical world before heading to Hogwarts. I could tell you about it sometime if you like?" She offered timidly.

"That'd be great! Thanks Hermione." Harry responded with a smile. "Maybe we'll even be in the same house!"

"What house do you both think you'll be in?" Ron asked, looking more at ease with Hermione and Neville now that Harry had decided they were worth befriending.

"M-my parents were in Gryffindor." Neville stammered nervously. "But I don't think I'm brave enough for that."

"You could be in any house I bet, Neville. You just need to believe in yourself." Ron said encouragingly.

"Well, I personally think I could be in Gryffindor, but-" Hermione began, when suddenly an announcement rang out through the train, announcing they were approaching Hogwarts.

"Oh, Neville! We have to go and find your toad before we arrive!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing Neville's sleeve and pulling him out of the car.

"It was nice to meet you Ron, Harry!" She yelled behind her as she went.

"Blimey," Ron said. "She's a bit energetic, don't you think."

"Yeah, but she seems nice! I hope we're in the same house. I'd like to know more about whatever strange things that book has to say about me too." Harry mused.

Ron simply shrugged, suddenly looking a bit pale and not meeting Harry's eyes.

"But I hope we're in the same house too, Ron." Harry rushed to say, hoping that whatever Ron was upset about wasn't about him. "I'm really glad we met on the train and now we're friends. We are friends, right?"

"Yeah, of course we are!" Ron exclaimed.

"Good." Harry said with a small smile. "I'm excited! You're my first friend! I can't wait to make more friends at Hogwarts too!"

"First friend?" Ron mumbled but didn't comment. "Well, we should probably change into our robes if we're arriving soon."

"Yeah, sounds good. I do hope we're in the same house though." Harry added.

"Me too Harry, me too."

...

The Hogwarts castle was beautiful and just as magical as Harry had imagined it would be. After he and Ron had exited the train, they'd found themselves being summoned amongst the other first years by none other than Hagrid. Harry greeted him happily, and they quickly took the boats across the Hogwart's lake to the school.

As they entered the school and found themselves in the great hall, Harry couldn't stop himself from gaping at the magic all around him. From moving staircases to magical paintings that greeted them as they walked past to the magical scenery on the high ceilings of the great hall, Harry was in awe of everything. And so very excited.

Ron mumbled something about the sorting ceremony not being fighting a troll and being relieved. Neville laughed nervously, and Hermione snorted and said he should have read Hogwarts a History.

But before Harry could comment, the sorting ceremony had begun. Names were called up and people were quickly sorted. Hermione and Neville went into Gryffindor, which made Harry happily cheer and Ron smile. That strange boy from the robe shop, Draco Malfoy apparently, went into Slytherin. Ron sneered when he saw him for some reason, and Harry wondered if he'd met him before too.

Suddenly, it was Harry's turn. He nervously walked towards the professor, McGonagall, and sat on the stool. The large old hat was placed on his head and began speaking to him immediately.

"Why, Harry Potter! I've been waiting quite a long time to sort you!"

"You have?" Harry said, confused.

"Oh yes! I sorted your parents, you see. Your parents were the perfect Gryfindor's, for certain. Quite easy to sort them." The hat began. "And you have many of their characteristics as well, so you could be in Gryffindor. But, you could be great in Slytherin house as well. Their house would bring you power and prestige for certain, which would serve you well. But yet, I also see a great desire to learn more about the wizarding world around you, and a desire for knowledge as well. That would serve you well in Ravenclaw. Your desire to make friends though is quite Hufflepuff. Hmm. Where to put you, indeed."

"I don't really mind what house I go into," Harry replied softly with a shrug of his shoulders. "But it would be nice to be with my new friends. They're the first ones I've ever had."

"Indeed, indeed. Then it must certainly be, Gryffindor!" The hat yelled the last word loudly with a decisive shout, and suddenly the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers and Harry hopped off the stool and sat with his new housemates who greeted him with happy smiles and a few pats on the back. He could have done without the touching, but he forced himself not to flinch. He didn't want to seem rude.

Within no time at all, the sorting was over, and the strange headmaster, Dumbledore, had begun the opening feast after a few cryptic words about expectations for the school year.

And it was certainly a feast. Harry had never seen so many different kinds of food before in his life, and certainly never all in one place! And the number of sweets would have made Dudley beyond jealous. He was sure his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Hermione?" He leaned over to whisper to his new friend. "This is a lot of food. How are we supposed to pay for it? Are we allowed to eat it if we can't pay?"

Hermione gave him a strange look, unsure of how to answer.

"It's included in tuition, Harry." Neville answered simply.

"Oh. So it's okay to eat it then?"

"Yes, of course. You can eat what you'd like, mate! And I plan on eating at least three servings!" Ron added with a smile and a laugh, to which Hermione sputtered and began lecturing him about proper food consumption, which Harry then tuned out.

The sight of it all made Harry hungrier than he could ever remember being, but he knew better than to begin eating before anyone else. So he waited patiently for everyone else to fill their plates around him before taking a small amount for himself. He wanted to take more, to eat and eat and eat as he'd always dreamed of while watching the Dursleys stuff their faces with food he could never touch, but he didn't dare, afraid that he'd be caught and called out for eating more than he should. Instead, he savored each individual bite of the delicious foods he'd only cooked for the Dursleys and never tasted for himself. He was glad that everyone else was preoccupied with the excitement of the beginning of a new school year and wasn't paying attention to him. He was certain he was making some embarrassing noises, but everything was just delicious! He also used that distraction to slip a few rolls and biscuits into his pocket, just in case he needed them late. Although he hoped Hogwarts wouldn't withhold meals for punishment as the Dursleys did, he wanted to make sure he would have something just in case he did get in trouble.

As they ate, around Harry his new friends and housemates chattered with one another about their families, their excitement for the school year, what they might learn. The happy atmosphere was contagious, and Harry found himself unable to shake the large smile that had placed itself on his face.

"Mate, you going to eat that?" Ron asked Harry suddenly, pointing at a nearby tray of biscuits.

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think I can eat another bite!"

"But you've barely eaten anything Harry." Neville commented. "Compared to the rest of us I mean." He quickly added, looking embarrassed for speaking up.

"No, really. I'm full!" Harry assured him. "I've never eaten so much food in my life!" He added with a laugh. Ron, Hermione, and Neville, as well as some of his other new housemates, gave him a funny look, but Harry shrugged it off and moved to finish the last of the small amount of treacle tart he'd allowed himself to grab.

They all three shared a look, but didn't comment, and instead went back to their conversations. The rest of the meal went without problems (save for the strange moment where Harry's scar had hurt a bit), and his smile stayed firmly in place.

After the meal was finished, and they'd been escorted to the dorms and settled in, Harry lay on his new bed (his very own bed!) and stared happily at the dark red curtains above his head.

Today had been just as magical as he'd imagined, and more. He couldn't believe he'd made three friends! And Dudley wasn't here to scare them off so it was likely he'd get to keep them.

He'd eaten a delicious meal and felt actually full for the first time in as long as he could remember. Tomorrow, he'd get to learn actual magic! Already, being at Hogwarts was perfect, and he was certain nothing at all could go wrong.

With that happy thought, Harry rolled over and fell into a restful sleep, for once not dreading what would come in the morning.


	3. Suspicions and a Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some serious time-skipping. Also, get ready for a lot of character redemption. Don't expect much character bashing in this fic.
> 
> Btw, this is not a Severitus fic, nor a Snape adopts or rescues Harry fic. But he does have a roll to play in this story, just for clarification.

Severus Snape was a practical individual. He didn't believe in frivolities of any kind, and it showed in every aspect of his mannerisms and decisions.

For example, why spend money on ostentatious robes when you could wear practical black options for any and all occasions? Or why bother with niceties for those who would just as soon gossip behind your back when you're not around?

Yes, Severus was practical. And certainly, a bit acerbic and strict in personality, as his students knew well. But he prided himself on being practical above all.

That was why Severus knew Harry Potter would be a loud, brash, and insufferable know it all the moment he arrived at Hogwarts. It was common sense and practicality.

He'd been preparing himself for years for the day Harry Potter darkened his doorstep and that old promise to protect the brat would resurface. He'd prepared a number of witty remarks to dull the boys assuredly horrendous behavior, and prepared detentions that would teach him some humility he would desperately need after being spoiled all of his life.

This, of course, meant that when a shy, quiet Harry did arrive, he was thoroughly confused.

He'd watched the boy throughout the feast, looking for the first sign of misbehavior, but despite his intense gazing, he found no sign of trouble. Instead, he saw a timid boy, barely picking at his food and mostly keeping to himself.

Still, it was probably just first day nerves and the arrogant Potter personality would show itself soon enough. He was sorted into Gryffindor after all.

So then came the next available opportunity to observe the boy: potions class. Severus was prepared to crush the boy's arrogance immediately, so he made sure to bombard him with questions as soon as possible.

This of course also failed when Potter couldn't answer any of the questions. Now, granted, the one about the bezoar might have been out of line, as that certainly wasn't first-year material. However, most of the questions were simple, found mainly in the first chapters of their textbooks. Even the muggleborn Gryffindor Hermione Granger that Potter always seemed to be with knew the answer. For goodness sake, even the inept at potions like Longbottom would know the answer if asked! Either Potter was stupid, or-

Well, that didn't merit thinking about. Certainly, it was just another brand of Potter arrogance. Granted it made no sense; why hide your intelligence instead of flaunting it as his father had? But no matter. Even if the boy was determined to hide it, he would still catch him in his arrogant behavior sooner or later. He just had to be patient.

Somehow, this failed as well. Despite having a bit of a sarcastic wit (which, if it wasn't coming from a Potter, he might have appreciated), the boy was relatively well behaved, as much as it hurt him to admit. He never purposefully caused a scene or drew attention to himself, and he seemed to work hard in each class he was in. His potions skills were abysmal though, usually exploding his cauldron or otherwise causing a mess.

This, of course, led to many points being taken from Gryffindor (much to his personal delight) and many detentions with the brat (a much less desirable outcome).

This is what led to his current predicament, as he stood in his office awaiting the arrival of one Harry Potter for the third time this week.

A sudden knock on his door alerted him that the boy in question had arrived.

"Professor Snape?" Potter called out softly as he opened the door.

"Come in, Potter, and stop loitering in the doorway." He sneered, ushering the boy inside and closing the door firmly behind him.

"Your usual cauldrons are waiting for you on the bench." He said sarcastically. "I trust you know what to do?"

The boy nodded silently, looking at the floor with an unreadable expression.

"Then to work. I haven't the time to babysit, Mr. Potter."

And with that, the boy scampered off to the bench, quickly picking up the cauldrons and beginning to clean.

As he returned to his desk and grabbed a nearby stack of essays to grade, he found his attention wandering to Potter yet again.

The boy was an enigma. He had no idea how the boy could be so inept at potions, and yet so cognizant of the best ways to clean a cauldron. No matter the stain or the grime, he worked quietly and efficiently and always left behind a sparklingly clean result.

His preparation of potion ingredients was also acceptable. The boy had even somehow known the difference between slicing and chopping without being instructed.

Speaking of which, it was about time for the second part of Potter's detention.

"That's quite enough cleaning, Potter." The boy looked up quickly, startled by the sudden noise in the quiet room. "I have a different task for you."

"Uh, what is it... sir?" Severus steeled his nerves to ignore the hastily added sir and gestured the boy to the single brewing station set up in the corner of his office.

"We will be attempting to rebrew the potion you so carelessly destroyed in my class today. I refuse to have you continuously endanger your fellow students with your idiocy. You will learn to brew an effective potion in my class, Mr. Potter, no matter what it takes."

The boy's face turned red, and for a moment Severus thought he might try and insult him, but instead, he simply nodded and moved quietly to stand by the cauldron.

"Now, do observe carefully, Mr. Potter. I won't have you burning a hole in my personal cauldron. Understood?" The boy nodded quickly, with another small scowl.

"Well then, get to work. The ingredients are all here, you will find."

"Yessir." Potter mumbled and reluctantly began reading the potion instructions Severus had placed on the small blackboard.

He watched carefully as the boy prepared the ingredients, slicing and dicing carefully and accurately.

Secretly, Severus was excited to have a chance to observe the brat one on one. He wanted to know just where the boy's potions usually went wrong. As it quickly became apparent the preparation wasn't the issue, Severus's attention began to wander slightly, and he began composing a to-do list in his own mind of the many things that needed to be done.

This was of course when everything went wrong, and Potter decided to forgo the potions instructions for some reason unbeknownst to anyone but him, placing the chopped roots in before the diced liver, and causing a small burst of flame to shoot out of the cauldron, burning the foolish boy's hand.

"Blast it, Potter! Can't you read the instructions?" He fumed as he rushed to nullify the potion and grabbed Potter's hand to assess the damage.

He scowled at the nasty burn on the boy's hand. "You're lucky you didn't burn your hand completely off, you foolish child! As it is you'll likely spend a night in the hospital wing." He sneered at the boy, who's head was hanging low, his ridiculous hair shielding his face from Severus's view.

When after a few moments the boy hadn't responded, Severus grasped his wrist firmly and began to tug him towards the door.

"Come along Potter! I haven't got all day."

The boy followed behind him quickly, matching his fast pace barely as they marched towards the hospital wing. He remained silent the entire time. Too silent in fact, with his head down the entire time.

"Madame Pomphrey!" Severus loudly declared as he rushed into the empty infirmary with a silent Potter in tow. No answer met him, as Poppy seemed to be absent from the wing at the moment. He let out a quiet curse.

"Wait here, Potter." He said, pushing the boy to sit on a nearby hospital bed and quickly stepping behind a nearby screen to conjure his Patronus to send Poppy a message.

Surprisingly, he returned to find Potter sitting silently on the bed having not moved an inch, his bright green eyes behind his ridiculous glasses staring in confusion at the room around him. Yet another thing he hadn't expected. He'd honestly expected the boy to have moved at least a bit.

But more surprising than the lack of movement was Potter's complete silence. Severus was suddenly struck by how silent the boy had been when the accident had happened, and how silent he was on the walk to the hospital wing. No whining, no crying, not even any heavy breathing. And that silence hadn't ended.

"Well, Potter, until Madame Pomphrey is able to see to your injuries, I will have to take care of the mess you've made." He scowled at the boy, stalking over to his side and grabbing the injured hand without any hesitance or care.

Potter, if it was possible, looked even more confused.

"Sir, I-"

"Quiet Potter. I haven't the time for your whining." He quieted Potter and pulled out his wand and performed a wordless assessment spell over the boy's hand. The burn was thankfully not as bad as it appeared, according to the spell's results.

"But sir, it's not even that bad. It doesn't even hurt!" The boy insisted, looking imploringly at Severus.

"Please, Potter. Cut the heroics. It doesn't suit you." He sneered at the boy and began casting a small numbing charm.

"But honestly, sir. It doesn't hurt more than any other burn I've ever had, and I've had worse before. And I never had to go to any hospital for those burns."

He rolled his eyes at the boy's clear desire to seem tough. "Well, as much as I'm sure you don't like hospital visits, I find it necessary. And I'm sure Madame Pomphrey will agree with my assessment. Besides, it's not as if you'll be getting a repeat of your vaccinations against dragon pox."

"I wouldn't know if I like them or not, sir. I've never been to any doctor, and I've certainly never gotten any shots." Potter mumbled frustratedly under his breath, the first sign of emotion he had displayed since they arrived at the infirmary.

Severus's ears perked up at that, something in the boy's tone causing the words to snap into place in his head. Something was wrong here.

At that moment, however, Poppy arrived through the floo and quickly took over looking after the boy and healing his hand. Severus was quickly shooed out of the room by the Matron, claiming he was interrupting her work.

As he began the quiet walk back to his chambers alone, he stewed on Potter's strange words. The boy's lack of pain, his insistence on not needed medical attention for what could have been a serious burn, his statements of never being to see a physician, all of it was almost too much coincidence for Severus to brush aside. And with those thoughts, a number of other things about Harry seemed to surface. He was quite thin and small for a boy his age after all, much smaller than his wretched father had been at that age, and his strange cleaning skills, and strange eating habits, and-

No, he was simply seeing things that weren't there. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts.

Although, it certainly wouldn't hurt to drop a few hints to Albus about getting the boy a physical at St. Mungos on a weekend. And maybe a few of his suspicions. The old fool certainly favored the boy. It was probably nothing, but a visit to the doctor never did anyone any harm.

However, unfortunately for one Harry Potter, Severus Snape would soon forget to mention his suspicions, as his time quickly became consumed with a certain stone and proving his more pressing suspicions about one Quirinus Quirrell.

...

Ron Weasley wasn't the smartest boy. He knew his brothers were better than him at most things. But Ron liked to think he was a good friend. He'd made many friends in his first year at Hogwarts.

There was Neville, who could be a bit cowardly but was quite funny when you got to know him. And he actually knew how to play wizard chess, unlike Harry, which Ron thought was brilliant.

There were Dean and Seamus, whom he didn't know as well, as they always seemed to be doing things together, but who were both quite funny and enjoyed talking about Quidditch, and in Dean's case sharing about muggle sports with him.

Of course, no friends compared to his closest friends, Hermione and Harry.

Although he'd been wary of Hermione at first, Harry had insisted they had to be nice to her, and Ron quickly grew to like the bushy-haired witch. She was bloody brilliant at everything, which was great when he needed homework help, even if she was a bit intense. And her knowledge had certainly helped them in stopping Professor Quirrel when they found out he was trying to steal the stone. So even if she was a little strange, she was also quite loyal, and she had a nice smile, and, well, Ron just liked her. That's all.

Then, of course, there was Harry. Ron had never had a friend like Harry before.

On the one hand, Harry was amazing. He seemed to think Ron was someone wonderful, and never listened when Ron tried to tell him otherwise. He actually cared about what Ron had to say and laughed at his jokes. And Harry was funny and kind. Overall, a great friend. Ron was glad he had met him on the train.

But on the other hand, Harry was also strange. He barely ate anything, was really small and skinny, and never talked about the muggles he lived with. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Sometimes he would make these "jokes" that were usually really dark and not, in Ron's opinion, very funny. Hermione and Neville seemed to think the same because they didn't laugh at his jokes either.

So while Ron might not be as smart as Hermione, he noticed things about Harry, because Harry was his friend.

So, it wasn't long before things began to stack up in his mind. It was too many weird things not to say something to someone. So he made his first decision to drop a hint about Harry to his mum when Christmas came around. He wrote her a letter about how Harry had never had a Christmas present, and was glad to see her send presents for Harry alongside his own. Though his mum didn't seem to get that Harry had never had a gift before, and seemed to brush it off as him exaggerating in her next letter. But Ron would never forget the way Harry looked when he'd opened those gifts that Christmas. He knew then that all his suspicions were right. Something about Harry's home life was terribly wrong.

So he dropped a few more hints to his parents in letters but was brushed off again and again. So he stopped dropping hints and instead started planning.

Something was wrong with Harry's home. And if no one else would listen, then he would just have to do something about it himself.

That was how, a few days after returning home for the summer holiday, he found himself in his father's flying Ford Anglia to Harry's home on Privet Drive.

And there the noticing began again, but this time, the twins saw it too.

They saw the room, the bars on the window. They saw Harry's Uncle, practically purple with rage and looking as if he really would wallop Harry if he caught him. The saw how thin Harry was, heard his stomach grumble as he crawled into the car and they sped away, saw his baggy clothes covered in dirt and holes. They saw, and Ron knew, now they understood too. And this time, he was going to make sure someone did something about it.

...

Molly Weasley was livid. Her boys were missing, gone Merlin knows where, and with no note! And that ridiculous car of Arthur's was gone as well! She was fuming, pacing the kitchen floor and mumbling to herself just what she would do when they returned. No pudding after supper for a month! No quidditch for a year! Or-

The sound of the car engine startled her out of her inner tirade, and she glanced out the window to see the car flying towards the Burrow. Quickly, she exited the kitchen, hiding behind the door in the hall, knowing they would certainly try to enter through the backdoor unnoticed.

She heard their quiet whispers as they attempted to sneak back in. Oh, they were in for it now.

"Where have you been?!" She shouted, letting her emotions rise to the surface as she rounded the corner. Their wide eyes and open mouths were almost comical, and if she wasn't so angry, she might have laughed.

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone-" She began ranting loudly, Fred and George's comments only fueling her ire. Couldn't they see how irresponsible and dangerous this was?

In her emotional state, it took a few moments before she realized there was another person standing in her kitchen. She paused slightly and turned to find none other than Harry Potter standing before her.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear." She let her ire fade and greeted him in a friendly and warm tone. She didn't miss the visible flinch he gave at her attentions though. Or the look her youngest son gave his best friend.

She let out a huff, pushing her anger aside, and calmed her tone. "I suppose it's neither here nor there for now. But you can be sure there will be punishments for this."

"They were starving him, mum!" Ron suddenly spoke up, anger flooding his own voice. Behind him, the twins nodded their heads seriously. "There were bars on his window!"

Molly paused. Her son had been uttering many similar dramatic statements about Harry lately. But the twins' serious faces, and Harry's lack of a reaction to such a strange statement, gave her pause.

"Harry, dear. Are you hungry?" She pushed aside the thought, for now, smiling warmly at the small boy. "I think it's late enough now for an early breakfast, don't you think?"

"T-that's okay, I'm fine, really Mrs. Weasley." Harry stuttered.

"Nonsense! As our guest, I insist! Fred, George, would you make Harry some toast and tea?" She shooed them towards the stove and ushered Harry to a chair.

"Now, just a moment dear. I need to have a word with Ron." She said with a smile but didn't miss Harry's look of fear towards Ron, almost as if he was afraid of what would happen to Ron once they left the room.

For her son's part, he followed her into the front room silently with a determined look on his face, further confirming her suspicions that she had been wrong about her son's supposed new tendencies towards the dramatic.

"Sit, Ronald." She said softly, motioning to a nearby chair. Ron sat cautiously, still looking intently at her.

"Now, I want to know what this was about. All of it."

And that was how Molly heard, through the rambling childish thoughts of her son, a number of horrors she hadn't wanted to confront.

She felt a sense of shame that she hadn't taken her son's casual hints seriously in his letters, especially when he began to tear up as he described Harry's emotions over Christmas, his "jokes" about not being cared for or fed, and his "room" at his relatives home.

"I wasn't lying mum." Ron insisted when the tale was done. "They really were starving him, and they really did put bars on his window. I'm worried about him. I know they don't treat him well, and I think that's why he acts strange sometimes."

"I believe you, Ronald." She said softly, cupping her son's chin and lightly directing him to meet her eyes. He reluctantly did so and gave a sigh of relief when he saw her serious expression.

"So you'll help him?" He asked with such hope that it broke her heart.

"I'll try, darling. I need to have a talk with your father first. For now, how about you join your brothers and Harry for breakfast?"

"Okay, mum." He said, rising to his feet and giving her a small smile and brief hug before rushing off to the kitchen.

Molly stood and sighed heavily. She needed to get Arthur, and they needed to have a talk with young Harry. There was no way she could ignore this anymore. She needed to know what was going on, and she was going to fix it no matter what it took. The poor boy deserved that much from her, at least.


	4. Reluctant Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting somewhere here! Some changes are beginning to be put in place for Harry in this chapter.

"Harry, darling, may I speak to you a moment?" Harry paused his slow munching of the toast the twins had made for him and looked up to find Mrs. Weasley, and a man he could only assume was Mr. Weasley from his red hair, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Yes mam." He said, frowning slightly to himself. He was worried about this whole thing. It had seemed like a good idea to get away from the Dursley's when Ron and the twins had arrived outside his window, but now. Now, he wasn't so sure. He was afraid that Ron and the twins would get in trouble for his sake, and he didn't want that at all. Still, he reluctantly put down the delicious toast with marmalade and stood to follow Mr. and Mrs. Weasley into a small study towards the back of the house.

"Please take a seat, Harry." Mr. Weasley smiled at him, gesturing to an old, worn armchair, which Harry quickly sat in. "We haven't been introduced yet. I'm Ron's father, but you can call me Arthur."

"And you're welcome to call me Molly, dear." Mrs. Weasley said with a kind smile.

No chance of that. Harry knew better than to call adults anything other than "sir" or "mam." But he nodded silently all the same, which seemed to be the answer they were looking for as they shared a smile.

"Harry, we are certainly glad to have you here, but there are some things we need to ask before you can go play with Ron and the twins. Is that alright?" Mr. Weasley asked. He didn't look threatening, or like he was about to punish anyone for the morning's events, but Harry knew better than to trust that everything would be okay after a stunt like that.

"I guess that's okay." He responded reluctantly. "But what do you want to know?"

"Oh, just a few things." Mrs. Weasley said, sounding somewhat nervous, strangely. "And we'd like to have your word that you'll answer them as honestly as you can. Can you promise us that, Harry?"

Harry was completely puzzled now and had no idea what was supposed to be going on, but he nodded hesitantly all the same.

"Thank you." Mr. Weasley said, giving him a nervous smile. "Molly?" He turned towards his wife.

"Yes, quite right, let's begin." She took a deep, shaky breath inwards. "Harry, Ron has told me a few things about your home life. Is it true you've never had a Christmas present before?"

Harry was a bit relieved now. That's all they wanted to know? Well, that was an easy answer.

"Yes, that's right. The Dursleys already have to pay so much to keep me fed and clothed and all that. They've never had money left over for things like Christmas gifts." And they don't like me, he added to himself in his head. "I'm really grateful for the gifts you sent Mrs. Weasley. They were amazing!" He added earnestly, hoping they would be pleased by his thanks. However, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a strange look instead, but didn't comment.

"Ron also mentioned you were starving. Do your relatives give you enough to eat." Mr. Weasley said calmly.

"I mean, yeah, I guess so." He shrugged. "I get in trouble a lot so they often withhold food as a punishment, you know, normal stuff. No dinner and all that."

"No dinner?!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in shock, leaning forward in her seat.

"It's really not that big a deal!" He rushed to calm them, putting his hands out in front of himself in a nonthreatening manner. "It's only every once in a while when I don't get my chores done."

"And how long do these punishments last?" Mr. Weasley pressed.

"I mean, an appropriate amount of time?" He rushed to explain, feeling a cold sweat grow on the back of his neck. Why were they asking all of these questions? "I mean it's never more than a week-" Here Mrs. Weasley let out an audible squeak. "I-I mean, usually only a few days-" He rushed to comfort her, but Mrs. Weasley looked even more distressed. Mr. Weasley also looked distressed but didn't comment.

"And your relatives, do they get angry at you often?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry felt himself visibly relax. This was easier to talk about.

"Yeah. Lots. But it's my fault you see. I've got a temper sometimes, so I'm always talking back when I shouldn't. And they didn't ask to have to take care of me, but they did it anyway. So they have me do chores and things to earn my keep around the house. Normal stuff. But they don't really like me, and I don't really like them. My Aunt is annoying, my Uncle has a temper, and my cousin is a bully. So I'd rather it stay that way. At least that way they leave me alone most of the time. And now that I go to Hogwarts, I don't really have to see them much anyways."

"Do they ever hit you, or hurt you as a punishment?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly.

"Well, my cousin is a bully, so sometimes he can get a little rough. But the worst my aunt has ever done is hit me once with the frying pan by accident." He shrugged again.

"Hit you with a-" Mrs. Weasley began.

"Do they take care of you well?" Mr. Weasley interrupted. "Provide you with healthy meals, clothing, toys, everything you need?"

"Well, I guess. They gave me a roof over my head, and I get Dudley's hand-me-downs. They didn't ask to take care of me, so it's generous enough that they would care, I guess."

"And food, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley choked out. "How much do you eat? How often?"

"Enough? I'm not starving." Both of the Weasley's gave his small frame a look at that statement, making him blush and do a great impression of a turtle. He didn't like talking about the food.

"And Ron said there were bars on your window?" Mr. Weasley added.

Harry shrugged, not willing to outright lie, but not really wanting to think about that right now. At least bars on his window were better than the cupboard.

"Cupboard?!" Mrs. Weasley said in shock. Oh no. He hadn't meant to mumble that. Harry started to break out in a cold sweat. How could he be so careless? His breathing sped up and he felt himself begin to panic.

"Harry, son, you need to calm down." Mr. Weasley's calm voice broke through his panic, and he felt a soft hand placed on his arm, probably Mrs. Weasley.

"Take a few deep breaths for me, Harry dear." Mrs. Weasley added. So Harry took a few breaths, and a few more after that, until he had calmed down enough to look up and focus on their faces.

"Harry, surely you can see that how your relatives treat you isn't exactly, well, acceptable?" Mrs. Weasley spoke once again, her words slow and cautious.

"I don't know why you want to talk about this." He mumbled softly in response. "It's always been like this. No one's ever said anything about it before."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley share a glance. From the determined look on their faces, this wasn't going to be a conversation that was easily dropped. He sighed to himself and curled inwards in a vain attempt at comforting himself. This wasn't going to end well, he just knew it.

...

To say that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were horrified by Harry's statements would be a gross understatement. Molly was shocked and appalled, and from the looks she was sharing her with her husband, he was as well.

Arthur inclined his head towards the doorway, signaling that he was clearly thinking the same thing she was.

"Harry, dear, why don't you go back to the kitchen with the boys. We can talk more later." She told the worried boy kindly, who by now looked like he'd rather sink through the floor than be in the room with them. Harry gave a jerky nod and rushed out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Molly-" Arthur began, the concern evident in his shaky voice.

"I know. I know." She mumbled in response, wringing her hands together worriedly.

"We need to call Albus. Even if only a fraction of what he said is true, this still can't continue. It can't." He shook his head almost in disbelief.

"Of course, that's what we should do, but I can't help but wonder..." Her voice trailed off.

"Albus couldn't have known about this, Molly." Arthur replied, obviously recognizing her train of thought, but his voice was uncertain.

"Well, regardless, he isn't going back to that house under my watch." She replied firmly, filled with a new conviction. She walked over to the floo in the study with a determined stride and tossed some powder into the fireplace with a loud cry of Albus's name.

Thankfully, the man in question quickly answered, despite the summer holiday, and the jolly face of Albus Dumbledore appeared in their flames.

"Molly, Arthur! To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely day?" His voice was cheerful as always, and where it normally set her at ease, with the circumstances it now made her stomach tie up in knots. Did he know? What would she say if he did?

"We have some concerns, Albus, about Harry if you have a moment." Arther spoke up for her.

"About young Harry Potter? Whatever is the matter?" Albus looked genuinely confused.

And so it all spilled out, between the two of them, about Ron's suspicions and Harry's worrying words. As they spoke, Albus's brow furrowed further and further, and a frown made its way onto his face, the twinkle dimming in his eyes.

"You must be mistaken. You know how children are, always exaggerating, this simply must be one of those-"

"No something's wrong in that household." A faint voice from beyond Albus spoke up, barely able to be heard through the floo connection.

"Severus-" Albus spoke up, before being interrupted again, apparently by none other than Severus Snape. They couldn't hear what was being said, but Molly was almost sure she heard mention of burns and check-ups.

When Albus finally turned back, his frown was deep and his eyes were worried.

"I'm not sure what is going on, but rest assured Molly, Arthur, I will check into it."

"He's not going back there." Molly spoke up firmly. "He'll stay with us for the rest of the summer."

"Of course, that's fine. Given the circumstances, I think that is best until we can establish exactly what is going on."

"I'm taking him to see a healer and an eye specialist at the beginning of term." They heard Snape speak up once again.

"Now Severus, if you're that concerned about his health I'm sure his head of house can take him."

"No, I'll do it." He replied in a grumpy tone.

Molly and Arthur shared a look of confusion. "We can take him if you'd like, Professor Snape." Arthur said loudly. "It's no problem."

"I believe I've made it clear, I will be taking him." He said alongside an audible huff.

"As long as you're sure." Molly said reluctantly.

"Positive." His voice responded, before the sound of some mumbling and a shutting door could be heard.

"Well, I suppose that's settled then. Young Harry will stay with you until the beginning of term, and I'll look into the situation best I can. I can assure you, Molly, Arthur, if there is something going on I won't stand for Harry being hurt. I thank you for looking after him until then. Farewell!"

And with that, the floo connection cut off, leaving them both standing in silence.

"Should we tell him he has to go on an outing with Snape first thing when he returns to school now, or later?" Arthur said slowly.

"Later." She replied. "Let him enjoy his summer for now. We can worry about the rest later."


End file.
